


Dear Lancetfish

by orchidbreezefc



Category: Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: (the non con is not by them on each other and doesnt follow through), Demisexual Character, Demisexual Pietro, Established Relationship, Fish Puns, Humor, Lapdance, M/M, barfights, strip clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidbreezefc/pseuds/orchidbreezefc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the tumblr prompts:  <br/>1. Pietro makes bad fish puns. Namor is not amused.<br/>2. Pietro/Namor going to the club and trolling people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Lancetfish

**Author's Note:**

> Asked for Pietro/Namor prompts because Kris Anka's [adorable official panel](https://40.media.tumblr.com/5dbdeb69ee2a31ffd96c79885764478a/tumblr_ntcg17vTje1rewd4ao1_540.jpg) of them in Secret Wars just kills me. Look how happy they are! Awww.
> 
> My dear friends Tumblr users Sylibane and Twyxted-Mind asked for, respectively, prompts 1 and 2. So this is what I came up with!
> 
> Warnings: alcohol, attempted roofie-ing by an extra on another extra, violence, sexual content.
> 
> Tumblr mirror [here.](http://orchidbreezefc.tumblr.com/post/127445265095/)

Everything had started civilized enough. That was Pietro’s mistake, he supposes, for assuming Namor could remain within normal human behavioral standards for a night.

Anyway, he forgets that Namor has a lot of apathy toward exactly accurate syntax in English. It’s not Pietro’s first language either, but he likes precision, at least precision enough to tell the difference between a gentlemen’s club and a strip club.

“I don’t see what the big difference is," Namor says agitatedly, slamming his empty glass on the bar and gesturing for another. “It’s a matter of incredibly inane semantics."

“Semantics like what to wear, you mean?” Pietro grumps back. “I thought we were at least going somewhere _nice_ to indulge in banal base needs."

“Oh, honestly!” Namor reaches over and pulls open Pietro’s waistcoat—Pietro yelps, certain a button or two is lost in the process—and undoes a couple buttons of his shirt. “There! Perfect." He sits back, smiling smugly. “You look wonderful, darling."

“—Ruined my outfit," Pietro grumbles, but he finds it hard not to blush under that undressing-you gaze. He secretly likes it, anyway; it makes him feel attractive.

“I’ll buy you new ones." Namor, for his part, completely undoes the buttons of his shirt and runs a hand back through his hair, mussing it attractively. “There," he announces. “Strip club." 

“As a matter of fact I don’t think we’re meant to dress quite as scantily as the dancers." Pietro finishes his drink; his mouth has gone suddenly quite dry. Namor grins as if he can sense it. 

“Yes, but you don’t care for them, do you, precious pearl?"

“They’re all right," Pietro mumbles contrarily, but Namor is already climbing into his lap, facing him. “Namor!" Pietro hisses, a blush on his high, brown cheekbones. 

“Pretend I’m a dancer,” Namor says mischievously. He swats Pietro’s hands away as they automatically go to his hips. “No touching."

Pietro endures it. Namor--well he doesn’t have quite as much skill as he seems to think, but he’s not bad either, undulating in some alien movements that would be more at home underwater. 

Anyway, Namor seems quite proud of himself, and Pietro decides to kiss him passionately and drag him to some back room just so he won't pout. If Pietro was rather inclined to do it already, well, that's coincidental. 

Either way, they only make it halfway back before they pass a man slipping something into a woman’s drink. 

“A moment,” Pietro says, nodding towards him and kissing Namor on the cheek. Faster than the eye can see, he has switched the man and woman's drink. He smirks confidentially at Namor. 

“Ah-ah," says Namor, shaking a finger at Pietro. “Let me show you how it’s properly done." He taps the man on the shoulder, and when the man turns and gives Namor a look up and down, Namor punches him square in the face.

Half an hour later, Pietro growls, “A night out with Namor McKenzie isn’t complete until we’ve started a barfight and been thrown out of the establishment, is it?” He puts Namor down on his feet, having run him past the inevitable police presence.

“A night without a show of prowess is a night wasted, seashell," Namor hums, pulling Pietro in by the waist to kiss him on the cheek.

“It’s a total washout, if you ask me,” Pietro says snidely. "Can’t bass up the oppor-tuna-ty to punch salmon, can you?"

“Your attempts at punishment via terrible nautical humor have no effect on my post-battle euphoria,” Namor says gleefully. 

“Pun-ishment,” Pietro insists. But Namor catches his lips twitching up despite his efforts to keep a straight face, laughs, and kisses him.

“Where were we?” he asks, collecting Pietro into his arms.

“Not here, you filthy miscreant,” Pietro groans, but at Namor’s continued eyebrow action, he laughs. “Oh, all right,” he says, scooping Namor off his feet again. “The quick route home, then."

**Author's Note:**

> Puns aren't the most Pietro-ish thing in the world, so I decided he started using them as a way to retaliate against Namor's cutesy nicknames like 'scallop' and 'seahorse'. Well, first Pietro tried using equally-sappy nicknames with dripping sarcasm, but everybody found that adorable. Then he tried names of the most nightmarish fish he could look up (hence the title--lancetfish are my favorite), but Namor took those as compliments. Finally, the puns. 
> 
> They love each other, really.


End file.
